


Enough Love Left For Me

by softforsummers (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Broken Promises, Charles Has Issues, Cheating, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Poor Erik Lehnsherr, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-15 17:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16937718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softforsummers
Summary: Charles loves the attention, loves feeling wanted. It's nothing personal, just a way to feel alive, to feel noticed after a lifetime of neglect.At least that's what everyone tells Erik, as if he's in the wrong for seeing Charles' infidelity as the betrayal it is.





	1. Erik's POV

Charles Xavier loved people. More than anything in the world, except for hot tea and warm cardigans. He loved learning new things about complete strangers, making conversation and new friends everywhere he went.

Charles was the most loving person Erik had ever met. His extroverted personality sometimes drove Erik a little crazy, but after ten years together, six of which they’d been happily married, Erik couldn’t imagine himself ever being happy with anyone else in his arms.

The thought only made his chest tighten more, forcing tears from his eyes he didn’t know he had room left to shed. Every breath was a ragged gasp, a stab to his lungs, doubling him over in shock and pain.

Everything about this was so pathetic. Erik couldn’t help but hate himself a little for everything that was happening. This was all his fault for believing anyone could ever love him the way Charles did. For believing that he was worth even half of what he was given.

He hated Charles for doing this. For giving him love so freely and taking it away just as quickly. All those times he had reassured Erik, promising Erik his heart and soul, telling him there was no one he could ever love as much as he did Erik.

“I know this isn’t going to sound comforting,” Raven said desperately, “But he’s been doing this for the entire time you guys have been together. If anything that should tell you he does love you, right? They don’t mean anything to him, Erik. Everything he’s said to you in the time you’ve been together he’s meant it. We all have our demons, you know?” Erik had slammed the door behind her.  

“It’s only a bit of harmless fun, Erik. It’s not like he’s planning to leave you for any of his conquests, right? Or is the sex that bad?” Erik had slammed the door behind Emma after cursing her out.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to destroy your marriage,” Moira, Gabrielle, Lily, Betsy, Amelia, and Logan said. “He doesn’t love me like he loves you, you guys are meant for each other. We were just… having fun.” Erik yelled in his empty house until he couldn’t even whisper.

He didn’t want apologies from people who he had called friends. People who had been welcomed into his home and into his life because they mattered to Charles. People who Charles said weren’t threats to their happiness, people who he had conquered his jealousy of for Charles.

There were others too. Ones who wouldn’t even be able to apologize if they wanted to because they didn’t know Erik existed. They lived in other states, the ones Charles visited on business trips. They inhabited bars and clubs where Charles would slip off his ring and nobody would be any wiser.

“Charles is a flawed human, we all are,” Ororo said gently, and Erik couldn’t help but imagine Charles’ hands running down her body, caressing moans from her lips. Supposedly she was one of the few people Charles hadn’t bedded in the last ten years. She was also one of the people who knew what he had been doing, and counseled him frequently on coming clean to his husband. Charles hadn’t though. Erik had the pleasure of finding out for himself.

There was nothing to talk about as far as he was concerned. Their marriage was over the moment he worked up the strength to call a divorce lawyer. The moment he worked up the energy to do something other than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Memories from the last ten years slowly circled around in his mind, alternately filling him with sadness and leaving him devoid of emotion.

Erik had screamed at Charles, hurt more than he could believe was possible. And he had stood there silently, crying but unwilling to defend himself. Not that there was anything he could say, no excuse he could come up with that would have satisfied Erik. It was only when Erik said it was over the begging had started.

The house was eerily silent but Erik could still hear his husband pleading with him. Explaining it away as a fault in his character, an addiction, a darkness he was never able to rid himself of. Explaining that he was never able to leave behind his days of youthful promiscuity, but that his love for Erik was true. Promising that none of them could ever compare to Erik as if he hadn’t soothed his jealousy a thousand times before with those same words. As if he hadn’t gone to bed with them behind his back anyways.

“Charles loves to feel loved, it’s part of who he is. That doesn’t mean he loves you any less Erik, you’re the one he comes home to. This is all going to work out in the end.” Irene said calmly as if she could see the future laid out in front of her. And as much as he was hurting Erik wanted to believe her.

Maybe this feeling of betrayal and emptiness would go away with time. Maybe there would be a day when he could look in Charles’ eyes and see the man he loves instead of the one who cut him open. Maybe there would be a day when he would no longer feel like he’s bleeding out every time his name is mentioned.

It’s been two weeks since Charles left. Is he hurting too? Does he care that he hurt Erik? Is he at a bar meeting new people the way he would be normally in Erik’s absence? Is he receiving ‘comfort’ from one of their mutual friends?

Ten years. The entire time. Every shared laugh, every smile, every kiss. It was never theirs. Never just theirs.

Before he really knows what he’s doing Erik has texted him. The instinct to flee, to escape before Charles gets there is combated by his need for… something. The illusion of normalcy.

Charles is smart enough not to say anything when he enters the house. A few moments pass in silence, and then he’s there. Standing in the doorway to what was once their room, looking tired and pale. Everything about him looks beaten down, broken. He looks the way Erik feels.

Erik doesn’t say anything either. Just pulls back the blanket and stares at him expectantly. Charles toes off his shoes and climbs into bed, hesitant to move closer. Erik closes the distance, wrapping his arms around Charles and resting his cheek against his hair.

He wishes he could stop himself from doing this. From loving Charles more than he could ever love himself. For being willing to give him the world in exchange for a single smile.

If he could he would stop.

But he can’t. And so he holds Charles as tightly as he can and let’s his tears fall freely.


	2. Charles' POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles loves Erik more than anything, but he knows his husband would never believe that. Not after finding him tangled up in bed with a stranger when he comes home early.

Charles rolled his hips and groaned at the sensation, burying himself as deep as he could inside him. Fuck he felt incredible; Charles could spend the rest of his life locked in this one moment.

“Oh fuck, fuck, please ple—” he gasped, scratching his back hard. He cried out when Charles adjusted his angle, throwing his head back against the pillows and losing himself in the pleasure.

He looked stunning like this, lost in Charles’ touch. Even more beautiful than he had looked tonight in the bar, staring at Charles hungrily from across the room. It would have been a sin not to take him home.

The man stroked his own cock, gasping as he came close to his release. Charles thrust harder, chasing his own orgasm. In a moment this would all be over and he would be back to the real world, back to his responsibilities and the burden of maintaining his image. But here and now, with this beautiful man in his bed, Charles was truly himself. He felt like was baring his soul to this man, giving him everything he had to offer and asking nothing in return. The experience was practically religious. 

He buried himself completely inside him, spilling his seed into the condom with a sigh. A few more strokes and the man joined him, breathless with pleasure. They stayed like that for a moment or two, catching their breath and enjoying the rush of endorphins. Charles rolled over and pulled the condom off, tossing it into the bin.

He stretched out his legs and rested against the pillows, idly wondering if there was any of Erik’s homemade lasagna left. 

Distantly, the front door opened and closed. Charles sat up, heart beating a mile a minute.  _ Please let it be Raven, please let it be Raven, please let it be _ —

“Charles?” Erik’s voice wavered, and Charles could practically feel the way his mind went from excited to horrified all at once. Both of them were suddenly dropped into their worst nightmare. 

Oh God—the  _ look _ on his face. Charles hadn’t thought it was possible to see Erik looking so small, so broken. For all the world he looked like a man condemned to a painful death. 

Erik took a deep breath, made a terrible choking sound, and turned, stumbling blindly back into the hallway. Charles rushed to find him, foregoing clothing entirely. They were past the point of formality and there was no covering what he had done. 

Charles should have felt guilty, or sorry, or something. All he felt was a deep seated regret at having been discovered. He had been so certain his husband wouldn’t return home early from his business trip, and now his carelessness would cost him dear. If Erik stayed he would never look at Charles the same way, and the trust Charles had never deserved was lost forever. 

Charles found him in the guest bathroom, hunched over the toilet on his knees and vomiting repeatedly. He spat repeatedly, wiping his mouth with toilet paper and heaving a little. It took Charles a moment to realize his stoic, unfeeling husband was sobbing.  

Erik looked up at Charles with tears silently streaming down his face. Never in a million years would he have imagined his husband would be capable of falling apart so quickly, so absolutely. He had always seemed so infallible. The sight before him shattered the illusion thoroughly.

“I don’t, I don’t understand,” Erik said, “Why would you...? Why?” He shuddered, burying his face in his hands and making a sound like a dying animal. Erik moved away from Charles’ attempt at a soothing touch, curling against the wall instead. Watching him felt like a knife to the gut, and so he looked away. 

Charles left the bathroom and returned to their bedroom. The man had already left, smart enough not to get in the middle of their falling out. He walked into the closet and found a pair of Erik’s sweatpants; he dressed numbly, thinking through his options with a strange detachment.   

In retrospect, perhaps he did have a problem. If Charles had gone to a therapist, if he had seeked help for his growing obsession, would he be where he was now? 

His right hand sought his ring, a familiar gesture that always brought comfort. Now was no exception, and he ran his fingers around the edge of the metal to remind himself of its importance. Erik loved him. And he loved Erik. 

Charles has always loved Erik, and he always will. Erik has seen almost every broken, dirty piece of who he is. Almost all of it. There were some things he could never let go of no matter how hard he tried. 

It was one little lie. One little lie that currently threatens to destroy a decade long relationship. He wanted Erik more than anything in the world before, and he feels the same way now. If he knew he wouldn’t get away with it maybe Charles would have stopped. 

Charles wanders back into the living room and sees his husband curled up on the couch, looking lost in his own home. There’s a deep tension in the air, waiting to be broken by a single word. 

He’s surprised that Erik would show such emotion. It reveals just how much he’s allowed himself to trust Charles, to give himself over to his husband without fear of judgement or abandonment. Erik gave everything to Charles, and even in the midst of the hurricane raging all around them, Charles feels the same soft affection he always feels when he thinks about Erik. 

“Erik,” Charles said softly, “Speak to me.” 

“What do you want me to say Charles?” he whispers, staring at his fingers as if they hold the answers.

“Was I really not enough for you?” 

Charles winces at the defeated softness in his voice, moving to sit on the other end of the couch. 

“You’ve always been enough for me Erik, always,” Charles said truthfully. “I’ve just… I’ve never been good at this.” It’s a poor excuse, Charles knows that, but what else can he say? What can he say to have Erik’s forgiveness? Anything he wanted Charles would give it to him a thousand times over if he would only stay. 

Erik looks at him in disbelief, sadness finally giving way to anger. This is the emotion Charles had expected, and he’s finally let himself give in to it. Just like he always does.

“That’s your excuse? I come home early to surprise you and you’re fucking another man in our bed and your excuse is you’re not good at this? Not good at what, hiding your infidelity?”

“Not good at being the man everyone else thinks I am,” Charles said softly. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Erik screams, red and livid and beautiful in his own way simply by being himself. Charles loves him, so desperately it hurts. In another life he would have been happy with Erik and Erik alone and they’d be having dinner right now instead of falling apart at the seams in their living room. 

“Please Charles, tell me you’re not doing this,” Erik whispers, deflating once again. “I can’t, I never thought you would do this to me. Please don’t do this to me Charles, _please_ _please_ don’t do this to me, not you, not you, please.” 

Erik cries again, more angry than sad. Over and over and over again on an endless, broken loop Erik pleads with Charles not to betray him. As if Charles hasn’t already hurt him. As if he could simply travel back in time and undo everything. 

It’s sort of funny in a way. Most people wouldn’t expect Charles to be the one who destroyed their marriage. He was always the soft, loving, devoted half of their pair. Erik was the surly, remote, unavailable one. Of course people never see what happens behind the scenes; they didn’t see how smitten Erik was with him, or how deeply he loved Charles. They didn’t see how vulnerable Erik could be. 

When they first met ten years ago Erik was so terrified of hurting Charles, of Charles feeling as though he could do better and leaving Erik. His parents were dead, he was the victim of child abuse, and even in his adult life Erik was knocked down and abandoned and lied to more times than he could count. And it showed, in how hard it was for Erik to trust, in how hard it was for him to be vulnerable and fall for Charles. In many ways Charles had seen it as a challenge, and prided himself on every smile, every gentle touch, every whispered late night confession he earned from Erik. 

Erik was, and always will be, the greatest thing to ever happen to Charles. 

It’s devastating, seeing how hurt Erik is. Charles knows Erik thinks he wasn’t good enough, or that Charles never saw any value in him. That couldn’t be further from the truth, and Charles wished he had a way to explain that this was never Erik’s fault, that the Charles he fell in love with and surrendered himself to is the same man he found in bed with another. Erik gave him everything, and maybe he never deserved it, but the man he lost his heart to is still here. 

Charles is still here, and he selfishly hopes that Erik will allow him to stay. 

Charles watches the sadness leave again, to be replaced once more by anger. It’s like waves on the beach, the ebb and flow of his emotions. 

“Tell me Charles,” Erik demanded, “Tell me.”

And so Charles did, sparing no details. Charles tells him about the lovers he takes in strange bars and crowded clubs; about the co-workers and mutual friends who disapprove but fall into his bed all the same; Charles describes the various ways he kept it hidden, and how he never wanted Erik to find out. 

Because Erik would blame himself, and one again believe all the things Charles fought so hard to disabuse him of. That he was worthless, and unworthy of love, and not good enough for Charles or anyone else. Erik’s self-hatred and self-doubt had consumed him for so long, and Charles knew that if he ever found out his husband was unfaithful he would take it as confirmation that his deep seated fears were valid. 

“But that’s not true Erik. I don’t love them,” Charles said, “I could never love them the way I love you.” 

Even before he speaks Charles knows Erik doesn’t believe him. Charles knows that everything they fought for is gone once more; Erik looks at him as if Charles is a stranger.

Erik puts his head between his hands, speaking more to himself than to Charles. They were going to adopt children, and had already filled out the paperwork; their anniversary was coming up and Erik was going to surprise him with a trip to Ireland; he went into an antique shop on his business trip, when his loneliness and longing for Charles was most suffocating, and bought him a china teapot. 

The teapot was gift wrapped and set in a box with velvet lining to protect it. Erik had it in the trunk of his car.

All sorts of things: the way Charles’ hair looked in the morning, how beautiful his eyes were, the softness of his skin, the glowing smile that lit up Erik’s dark world. Erik talked about how Charles was always able to chase his demons away, and leave Erik feeling as if he almost deserved his love. 

“I’m the same person I was before,” Charles pleaded, “I’m the same man you fell in love with all those years before, and I have never lied about my love for you. Please Erik, you mean everything to me.”

“Get out Charles. Get out and don’t come back.”

“Erik—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT CHARLES!” Erik snatches a glass off the coffee table—the one Charles’ lover drank scotch from no more than two hours ago—and threw it at the wall. Shards of glass burst outward, and fell to the floor in a glittering cascade. 

Charles’ heart hammered against his chest as he rose, backing away from Erik quickly. He realized that this was truly the last time he would see his husband. It was over. Even if he ever chose to take Charles back it was over, and everything they had held so dear to their hearts was gone. 

Erik’s eyes were wet with tears, and Charles spent a moment admiring the man he loved before he left for the last time.

*****

“Damnit Charles, I told you he was going to find out sooner or later!”

“I know Moira, don’t fucking lecture me right now I’m not in the mood.”

A pause.

“Maybe you should stay at my place for a few days, until you find somewhere new.”

The streetlights are a blur outside his window, and Charles can hear the rowdy laughter from a group of couples walking on the sidewalk. He glances back at them in the rearview mirror and wonders.

“Thank you Moira, that would be lovely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I gotta say though that out of all the people Erik could receive advice from Emma Frost is by far the worst. Since she had an affair with Scott and he left his wife Jean for her, she's probably not the most sympathetic listener.


End file.
